


Captured

by LibraryMage



Series: Whumptober 2020 [15]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Autistic Ezra Bridger, Gen, Mind Rape, Sensory Overload, Seventh Sister Is A Creep, Torture, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: “I’m not telling you anything,” Kanan said, glaring down into those piercing yellow eyes.“I think you will,” she said.  She stepped aside, and Kanan’s eyes widened as he saw the figure slumped on the floor behind her.Ezra.The kid was unconscious, his hands cuffed in front of him so tightly that Kanan could see bruises forming at his wrists.----The Seventh Sister is determined to get Kanan to talk.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus
Series: Whumptober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948636
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one was kinda hastily written to try and get Whumptober stuff finished on time (surprise! that didn't happen), and there's really no plot justification here because it's Whumptober so...here we are.
> 
> Whumptober 2020/Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Forced to Beg
> 
> warning for: torture of a child

_Wake up._

Something struck his face. Hard. Kanan’s eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly.

“There you are.” The voice came from somewhere above him. “I was starting to worry I’d given you a little too much.”

An invisible grip dragged him up, dumping him onto his feet. Hands grabbed his shoulders to steady him. As he shook his head to clear it, one of those hands grabbed his chin, fingers digging in harshly enough to make him focus on the blurry shape in front of him.

Slowly, a face came into focus. A green-skinned face dotted by small tattoos. The Seventh Sister.

Kanan drew in a long, shaking breath as he tried to pull himself back into his own head. At least the others had managed to escape. He could withstand whatever she was going to do to him as long as they were safe.

Seeing Kanan steeling himself, the Seventh Sister flashed a predatory grin. Her fingers tightened around his face as she spoke, her voice low.

“Now that you’re awake, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.” She tilted his head, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. “How to find the rebel fleet. Your ship’s clearance codes. And the names of every member of rebel command you’ve ever met, spoken to, or even heard of. And if your information is useful, you might even get a choice between death and service to the Empire.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Kanan said, glaring down into those piercing yellow eyes.

She let out a soft chuckle as she released him. Kanan swayed, but managed to stay on his feet.

“I think you will,” she said. She stepped aside, and Kanan’s eyes widened as he saw the figure slumped on the floor behind her.

Ezra.

The kid was unconscious, his hands cuffed in front of him so tightly that Kanan could see bruises forming at his wrists.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d escaped with the rest of the crew.

“Because if you don’t,” the Inquisitor said, “you’ll watch everything I do to him.”

Kanan swallowed, his cuffed hands curling into fists. As terrifying as it was to see Ezra lying there, unconscious and helpless, he couldn’t put hundreds more in danger. Not even for his Padawan.

But he couldn’t just let her torture Ezra, either. As she stalked toward the kid, Kanan forced himself to wait a moment, making it look like he was hesitating before he spoke.

“Wait.”

The Inquisitor stopped in her tracks, turning to face him again.

“Frequency 746892,” he said. “It broadcasts the current location of the fleet.”

Those horrible yellow eyes narrowed as the Inquisitor took a step toward him.

“Do you expect me to believe the rebellion just broadcasts its location to anyone who happens to stumble across the right frequency?” she asked.

“It’s true,” Kanan said. “It’s heavily encrypted, but I can give you the codes to access it.”

The Seventh Sister drew closer to him, her hand closing around his chin once more.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said with a sickening smile. “The next time you try to give me false information, make sure you don’t use a frequency used by the Empire.”

The bottom dropped out of Kanan’s stomach as she released him and turned back to Ezra.

“Now, I think it’s time to wake the boy up.”

“Wait!” Kanan said. He tried to take a step forward, but staggered as the room around him seemed to distort and shift. “I’ll tell you whatever you want. Just leave him alone.”

“I think you need some incentive to tell the truth,” the Inquisitor said.

She crouched over Ezra, straddling his chest. She shot Kanan one more smile before she drew her fist back and slammed it into the boy’s face.

Ezra’s eyes snapped open. When he saw the Inquisitor hovering over him, he gasped, the sheer terror that flooded through him stabbing at Kanan’s mind. He shoved against her chest, but she easily caught his wrists in one hand.

“Your master has decided he’d rather watch me hurt you than answer a few simple questions,” the Inquisitor said, trailing one finger of her free hand down Ezra’s cheek, pausing to dig in at the edge of one of his scars.

Ezra’s eye darted around frantically until he turned his head, his gaze resting on Kanan.

“Kanan.” The desperate plea in his voice was like a vibroblade being shoved between Kanan’s ribs. “Don’t tell her anything. I don’t care what she – _mmf!_ ”

The kid’s words were cut off as the Seventh Sister pressed her hand over his mouth. She wrenched his head back to center until he was looking up at her. His eyes were wide with fear, his breath coming in short, terrified gasps.

“You’ve made your point,” Kanan said. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

He wouldn’t. He _couldn’t_. But if it would buy Ezra a few moments of relative safety, he could come up with more convincing lies.

“I don’t think I have.”

Kanan’s throat went dry as he stood there, frozen with fear. The information was secondary, he realized. She just wanted to hurt Ezra. To hurt them both.

He reached out, feeling for the currents of the Force that flowed around him. But they slipped away, vanishing like mist the moment he tried to focus on them. Whatever she’d drugged him with must be affecting his abilities. And no doubt, Ezra had the same drug flowing through his veins, rendering him nearly helpless.

As the Inquisitor drew her hand away from Ezra’s mouth, the kid glared at her.

“I’m not telling you anything, either,” he said.

“I don’t expect you to,” the Inquisitor said. She pinned his hands to the floor above his head, making him wince as the metal of his cuffs bit into his skin. “In fact, all I expect you to do right now is scream.”

Her free hand hovered over his forehead, her fingertips just a hair’s breadth away from his skin. As Kanan watched, Ezra’s muscles went tight, straining against something. The kid squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisting into a pained expression. A soft cry escaped his throat before he clenched his jaw. The Seventh Sister just pressed her attack, raking her mental claws across his mind, pressing him deeper and deeper into whatever torment she’d created for him.

“Stop,” Kanan said. “He’s just a kid. Do whatever you want to me, just don’t hurt him!”

The Inquisitor ignored his plea. Ezra cried out, his heels scraping against the floor as he frantically twisted beneath her weight. Tears began to escape from beneath his eyelids, slipping down the sides of his face and onto the floor. On instinct, Kanan tried to reach out to him, but the threads of emotion he was able to control through the drug-induced haze weren’t strong enough to overpower Ezra’s pain and fear.

Recoiling from the terror that flooded across their bond, Kanan did the only thing he could.

“Leave him alone!”

To his surprise, the Seventh Sister lifted her hand away from the kid’s forehead, pulling back from his mind. Ezra’s head fell sideways, his eyes opening sluggishly. His gaze was unfocused, distant, and his breath was coming in ragged gasps as he slowly climbed out of whatever horrors he’d been plunged into.

The Inquisitor turned her gaze to Kanan.

“Maybe,” she said, that predatory smile returning to her face. “If you ask nicely.”

There was a sadistic gleam in her eye as she said it. One that made Kanan absolutely sure of what she really meant.

“You mean if I beg.”

“Yes.”

“Kan’n.” Ezra’s voice was a quiet, slurred whisper. “D-don’t. She’ll jus’ –”

“Shh,” the Inquisitor hissed, pressing a finger to Ezra’s lips. "The grown-ups are talking." The kid whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut again, but she didn’t attack this time. Her eyes stayed locked on Kanan.

“Please.” Kanan bit out the word through gritted teeth. “Don’t hurt him.”

“I think you can do better than that,” the Seventh Sister said. When Kanan hesitated, she dropped her hand from Ezra’s mouth to his neck, lightly squeezing his throat. “Unless you _want_ to see him suffer a little more.”

“Please,” Kanan said, fear twisting around his own throat like a rope. “He’s just a kid. Please, don’t hurt him.”

The Inquisitor sighed softly and dropped her gaze back to Ezra’s face. “I’m sorry, little one,” she said. “I guess your master just doesn’t care that much.”

Ezra tensed again, bracing himself as the Inquisitor lifted her hand once more.

“No!” Kanan cried. He took a staggering step forward before falling to his knees. The Seventh Sister grinned, dropping her hand and looking at him again.

“That’s more like it,” she said.

Kanan lowered his gaze to his own cuffed hands. He couldn’t bring himself to look at that sickening smile or the sheer terror etched on Ezra’s face.

“Please,” he said. “Just leave him alone.”

“And?”

“Torture me instead,” Kanan said. The words came out readily. Anything to save Ezra from what the Inquisitor was doing to him. “Please.”

He could feel the Seventh Sister’s eyes on him, watching, considering. Each second that dragged by felt longer than the last until Kanan finally looked up again. When he did, the Inquisitor still had that sadistic grin on her face. Finally, she spoke, eyes glimmering with something Kanan could only describe as bloodlust.

“No.”

As she turned her eyes back to Ezra, Kanan lunged forward. The world tilted sideways and he quickly went with it, falling to the floor, his head spinning.

“You said –”

“I didn’t promise anything,” the Inquisitor said. “I saw the records of your last interrogation. I know you can withstand pain. But watching your Padawan suffer…”

She let her hand hover over Ezra’s forehead once more. The kid gasped, a pained whimper rising in the back of his throat as she slid into his mind.

“I doubt it will take you that long to break.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter and not so good because it was written at the very last second because I didn't like just leaving that last chapter ending the way it did.
> 
> Whumptober 2020 Prompts: comfort, stoic whumpees

Ezra flinched as the Seventh Sister leaned in close enough to whisper in his ear.

“Don’t forget,” she hissed. “Your master let this happen.”

As she stood, Ezra’s breath caught in his throat. Maybe she was finally going to leave him alone. _Please, please leave me alone._

His stomach twisted sharply at the thought. If she stopped hurting him, she would probably turn her attention to Kanan next. Ezra couldn’t let that happen. She could do whatever she wanted to him, but he would _not_ let her hurt his family.

He had nothing even resembling a plan, but still he rolled onto his side, forcing himself up onto his knees. He swayed for a second, his head spinning and his stomach roiling. But before he could force himself to his feet, something slammed into him and he went toppling back to the floor.

“Stay down,” the Inquisitor snapped. She turned her gaze to Kanan, and Ezra’s heart nearly stopped.

“I’ll give you some time to consider your options,” she said. “But when I come back, I’ll do much worse than causing him a little pain.”

The panic that ripped through Ezra’s chest subsided a little as she left the cell. With a quiet groan, Ezra dragged himself to the nearest wall and sat up, pressing his back against the hard, supportive durasteel. He felt like his head had been scraped out with a knife and whatever was left had been pummeled into dust. His skin felt like it had been peeled off and stretched out and stuck back on all wrong.

He dragged his knees up toward his chest and rested his forehead on them, closing his eyes. The ghost of the Seventh Sister’s Force signature still lingered in his mind, slick and twisted, somehow touching him too light and too harsh all at once. Only the sheer exhaustion from trying to fight her off kept him from slamming his head back against the wall to try and drive those echoes out.

Ezra jumped, a strangled cry erupting from his throat as something touched his shoulder. Without him realizing it, Kanan had made his way across the cell and was now sitting beside him.

“Please don’t touch me,” Ezra muttered, inching away from his master. Even that small touch made him feel like needles were being stabbed into his shoulder. “I just – I can’t –”

He swallowed, not wanting to keep talking if it meant Kanan would hear the fear in his voice.

“I am so sorry, Ezra,” Kanan said. His voice was shaking, and Ezra didn’t know if it was because of the drugs they’d been given or what he’d just seen.

Ezra shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been through worse.”

“That true?”

Ezra sighed, his shoulders slumping. Tears pricked at his eyes as the image of her face and her predatory smile floated at the forefront of his mind.

“No,” he muttered. He took a long, shaking breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he gathered the bits and pieces of strength he had left. “But whatever she does next, don’t tell her anything. I can take whatever she throws at me, but I-I can’t be the reason they find the base.”

“Ezra –”

“Please, Kanan,” Ezra said, his voice breaking. “Promise me you won’t.”

The silence only lasted a fraction of a second, but it seemed to drag out much longer than that. Finally, Kanan spoke, his voice soft.

“I promise,” he said. He sighed, and Ezra threw his strength behind his shields as his master’s fear and pain scratched at their bond. They both knew that no matter what Kanan said, the Inquisitor would probably just keep hurting him anyway.

“I think the drugs are starting to wear off,” Kanan said. “What about you?”

Ezra shook his head. He still felt as disoriented and weak as he had when the Inquisitor punched him awake.

“I’ll be able to get us out of here soon,” Kanan said, keeping his voice quiet, even though they were alone.

“Unless they drug you again,” Ezra muttered.

Kanan reached toward him and Ezra flinched. But his master didn’t touch him. Instead, his hands stopped, hovering over Ezra’s cuffs. Even as he tried to shield his mind, Ezra could sense a wave of determination echoing across their bond. He kept perfectly still, not wanting to distract Kanan as the man pushed at the cuffs. The seconds dragged by, each longer than the next. Just as Ezra began to think it wasn’t going to work, the cuffs sprang open, falling to the floor with a sharp _clang_.

Ezra’s wrists ached as he slowly moved them, trying to work the feeling back into his hands. He winced at the sight of the bruises and cuts that marred his skin. Just looking at them, he could feel the Inquisitor’s hand pinning his arms down against the floor.

He flinched as a second _clang_ echoed through the cell. Kanan had gotten his own cuffs off and staggered to his feet.

“You think you can stand?” Kanan asked.

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then nodded. Bracing his hand against the wall, he shifted his weight onto his feet and dragged himself upward. He swayed as he stood, but managed to keep his balance.

“Alright,” Kanan said. “Stay close to me.”

Ezra nodded, focusing all his energy on staying on his feet. He didn’t want to ask Kanan for another minute to try and get his head on straight. Even if he had to stumble his way out of here, running into walls the whole way, they were escaping. Finally, he took his hand off the wall and stepped forward, steeling himself as he focused his gaze on the door.

“I’m ready.”


End file.
